Visiting Hours
by Jacqueline King
Summary: Reid revisits Amanda, hoping to find someone else one of these days.
1. Masking Smoke

"_Sometimes people carry to such perfection the mask they have assumed that in due course they actually become the person they seem."_

**- W. Somerset Maugham

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**

"Good afternoon, Dr. Reid."

The room was poorly lit, and as was usual for his visits to the Harris County Psychiatric Center. The face of the person sitting opposite of Spencer Reid was mostly cast in shadow. He had gotten used to Amanda's wishes by now. Dim lighting, and a cigarette poised between two polished fingernails. The migraines that had plagued her alter ego came back ever so often, and the light only intensified the pressure building in her temples and behind her eyes. So the only light in the counselor's room came from a shaded lamp and the glowing end of the inpatient's cigarette.

"I haven't heard from you in a while," she drawled before taking a deep drag of the cigarette. "I thought you'd forgotten about me."

Reid stared placidly at the white smoke that issued from the shadow where Amanda's mouth would be. "I've been busy," he answered with no apology in his voice. "But I didn't forget about you… or Adam."

Another long drag of heat before another breathy steam of white emitted from the shadow of Amanda's face.

"I don't know how many times I've told you, Dr. Reid, but Adam is in a better place now. He does not need _your _protection."

The young doctor leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he stared into the darkness where Amanda's eyes would be. "But what about your protection, Amanda? You've always been the one to protect him. How can you do that if he's gone… if he's in a better place, like you say?"

The shadows of Amanda's face tightened, and the long nails swoop down and snuff out the bud of the finished cigarette. Reid felt her tension, even in the dim light her body language spelled out unease. He pushed her, "Or are you trying to protect him by saying he's gone? Are you hiding him behind you? Taking the blame so he doesn't have to experience all that the two of you have done? If you're just locking him away than you're hurting Adam like everyone else. That's not protecting him; that's trapping him."

Her effeminate hands rested on her very masculine thighs. Amanda leaned forward, showing her wide green eyes and painted face. "I am the only person to ever look out for Adam," she said the words quietly in her soft southern drawl. "I've known him all his life—don't you think I know what's best for him?"

"Only Adam knows what's best for himself."

The door opened slowly, and in stepped the counselor. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but visiting hours are over." The lights switched on, and Amanda's wide eyes flickered for just a moment. Reid noticed—it was like watching Adam flinch away at the light from behind those vacant eyes. Both the patient and the doctor straightened and Reid stood first.

He held out a hand for Amanda, who accepted it like a true lady. A smirk broke across her face, as she was lead from the room. She turned her head a fraction, and said, "You know, I think I may have actually missed your little visits Dr. Reid. They only let me smoke when you're here."

Reid glanced down at the ashtray on the coffee table. The single bud it contained still smoldered thinly.


	2. Questions versus Answers

"What you are is a question only you can answer."

** - Lois McMaster Bujold**

* * *

"Dr. Reid may I ask you a personal question?"

The patient and the young doctor sat opposite once again, with the later hunched forward with his face in his hands. Long nervous fingers ran through the messy curls of dishwater hair. He had not slept in several days, and no amount of sugar-spiked caffeine was able to hide it any longer. He lifted his head slowly, bruised-looking eyes glancing into the shadows of Amanda's face. Spencer Reid gave a mute nod.

"Were you in love with someone like Adam?"

Amanda watched carefully for a reaction from her shadows. She'd finished her cigarette some time ago, but the musky scent and bitter taste lingered in the darkened haze swimming about her. The doctor and straightened at the words, his nervous fingers gripping onto the wood arms of his chair. He cleared his throat, and Amanda smirked in her gloom at his attempts to sound just tired, and not guilty of the accused. The patient had become the doctor, the doctor the patient.

"I don't understand what you mean."

"Oh, please. Of all the horror you've seen you can't have lived on without knowing _love. _Otherwise this conversion would be in the inpatient lounge. I don't think I need to give you a definition."

Reid adjusted himself again. "No," his voice was even now, "what I'm confused about is why you care."

"Answering a question with a question. Isn't that a sign of hiding something Dr. Reid? That's the way I've heard it, but of course I haven't had the experiences of interrogation you have."

"I'm only asking a clarifying question, Amanda. I'm fully prepared to answer your question, but if you'd please answer mine first."

From the shadows in which Amanda surrounded herself, she didn't see the young FBI agent check the watch he kept over the sleeve of his cardigan.

"I'll play your little game," she sighed. Sharp, polished nails flashed in the dim light as they snatched up the cigarette package on the table. They disappeared into the darkness, and the sound of a rolled piece of paper slipping from the box accented the waiting silence.

"I get the distinct feeling like you're trying to find something more inside of me than Adam. The devotion you have to finding him is not normal for someone of your position, you see. You have a very busy life and yet you find time to fly down to Houston once a month to talk to little old me." She placed the bud of the cigarette in her mouth and spoke with the filter between her lips. Another flash of pointed nails from the darkness as she snatched up the lighter. Reid noted the quick, almost violent movements compared to her normally lethargic air. Amanda did not see his eyes flash over to the video camera recording their words and movements.

"You're looking for answers, Dr. Reid," she drawled, "when all you're going to get are more questions."

She settled back into the couch with a fresh haze of smoke clouding the view of her perfectly made up face. "Now," she smirked between a deep drag, "I believe it's your turn to answer _my _question."

Reid gave a ghost of a smile and tilted his head slightly to glance over at the door. Amanda's eyes followed his tired eyes just as the door to the counseling room opened. She cursed under her breath and angrily smashed the newly lit cigarette into the ashtray. The nurses entered along with the pleasant counselor to take her back to her room—visiting hours were over.

"Very tactful, Dr. Reid," she glared, her blank eyes unusually icy for her normal placidness. The doctor stood up slowly, clam fingers reaching up and pressing the _stop _button on the camera that recorded each of these encounters.

The nurses waited as Reid's eyes silently asked them to wait for a moment. He held out his hand to help Amanda up. Her delicately masculine hand gripped a little too tight. When she stood, only inches away from the man who had convinced her not to kill Adam's stepfather, her pale green eyes met dark brown. Reid spoke so quietly that only she would hear:

"A man named Tobias saved my life once. He was trapped just like Adam."

"Were you able to save him, Dr. Reid?" Her voice was mocking, but just as hushed.

"No. I shot him."

The doctor let go of Amanda's hand, and held out his arm to usher her towards the exit.

Amanda began down the hospital hallway, nurses on either side of her. She strained her head to stare back at the young doctor with his calm fingers in his pockets, and his tired eyes betraying nothing.


	3. Reflections

**Author's Note**: Thanks to all who have read, alerted, faved and reviewed. The final installment for this story will be posted soon. I am planning to begin another Criminal Mind's piece involving the whole team. If you're interested, add me to your author's alert. I may also be looking for a beta reader for that one. Thank you once again for reading! -Jacqueline

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"Freedom is just Chaos, with better lighting."_**- Alan Dean Foster**

* * *

They had reached a stalemate.

Neither the patient nor the doctor wished to budge. Reid wanted Adam back, and therefore Amanda needed to leave. He never came out and said it. He only said he wanted Adam "back". He wanted Amanda to "do what was right".

But Amanda insisted she didn't know what had become of Adam. In thirteen months, thirteen visits from Dr. Reid, she had not budged on this answer. _You're going to be waiting for a long time. _She'd warned him, but the persistent profiler kept returning.

And so the counselor's room would fill with shadows and smoke, questions and answers, nervous fingers and polished nails, dishwater hair and a manicured wig once a month. They would chase each other's thoughts in circles, and recorded each moment of it to be reviewed by psychologists, psychoanalysts, and Dr. Reid.

Today was not going well. Neither one had spoken very much. Reid's mind was other places; he'd just finished a pretty bad case. He knew he was running off adrenaline and his idea for this interview could be dangerous. He should really think it over. But this was his only free time he could foresee getting off to come down to Houston.

Amanda had grown tired of Reid's evasion of her questions—just because she was the one in sterile hospital clothing didn't mean she wasn't allowed to know who her only visitor really was. Behind the interrogation face, behind the tired eyes and eidetic memory there was someone who was looking for an answer she didn't think she had for him.

There was no smoke, no shadows today.

Reid had grown tired of not seeing Amanda's face in full view. He turned on the lights, opened the curtains, and hid the cigarette packet the counselor always left in the room all before the inpatient came in for her monthly meeting.

The changing of the scenery set the mood for disaster. He knew that. He was gauging reactions. The doctor was experimenting, and his test could either awaken Adam or drive him away forever.

The heavy silence strung between them. Impartial greetings had been exchanged and the camera began rolling. Amanda glared at its lens with her arms crossed and clutched her elbows with her French nails.

Reid poised the first question:

"Where's Adam?"

Amanda wasn't about to be cooperative.

"Right behind you, Dr. Reid," she drawled. "He's waving from outside. Don't you see?"

"That's not funny, Amanda."

"Neither is taking away my cigarettes."

"You don't need them."

"_Yes_, I do."

"No, Adam, you don't."

"What did you just say?"

"I said no, you don't."

"Yes, I do. I want my cigarettes. I won't answer any of your silly questions, Dr. Reid, until I have my cigarette. I told you, it's the only thing I ask for in here. They only give it to me when you're here."

"The agreement was that if you talked with me civilly, you'd get special privileges like the cigarettes. Your counselor doesn't think you've been behaving well enough to deserve them this session. If you cooperate today, you'll get them back for our next visit, Adam. I think that's a reasonable agreement."

"You said it again."

"Said what?"

"You said _Adam _like you were talking to _him _and not _me." _

"I'm talking to _you." _

"So use _my _name."

"I am using your name, Adam."

"My name's _Amanda." _

"No, Adam, it's not. You're not Amanda anymore. You don't need her, Adam. Adam… listen to me! She isn't protecting you, she's hurting you!"

"No! No! I'm not hurting him! I was the only one who didn't hurt him!"

"She'll keep lying to you Adam. Don't listen to her. She's trying to push you down, to push you out. It won't work unless you let her bully you like everyone else."

"_Stop talking to him!_ He's gone! Gone! There's only me, only me! My name's Amanda, _**Amanda**_!"

"Amanda doesn't exist, Adam. She's not real."

A scream erupted out of the man with a woman in his body. He jumped to his feet, his hands slamming against his temples and pulling at the plastic hair on his head. His mouth stayed open even after the inhuman noise left his throat. He began mumbling things rapidly. Reid stayed seated in his armchair, his nervous fingers clutching the armrests so tightly they were loosing blood flow. His Adam's apple quivered as he licked his lips and tried not to have his voice crack as he continued to torture the person he wanted to save.

"Adam, she's not there."

"_STOP STOP STOP!_"

The face contorted, painted lips that had looked so delicate stretching and showing they belonged to the mouth of a man. The patient's mouth stayed wide, but no scream could come out any more. He doubled over, and hugged his stomach, shaking visibly. Then suddenly, his posture stiffened.

"Adam?"

"No." The voice was a firm, female southern drawl. Slowly Amanda pulled herself up right and straightened her hair carefully. She fingered her smudged lipstick and stared at Reid with piercing pale eyes. "What right do you have," she whispered the words, her whole body tense with rage, "to decide which of us deserves to live in this body? _Why does he deserve to live more than me?" _

She walked to the window, her French manicured nails clutching at first to her elbows then reaching out and resting on the glass. Her reflection met her fingers and stared back at her. "I know how to take the pain. The medication, the interrogations, the accusations, the trials, and the grieving families—I can hold my composure Dr. Reid. I can handle the situation; I can apologize without being sorry. Adam would have died in here. So I set him _free. _He left me to protect him, like always. I love him, Dr. Reid, and I won't make him come back to this."

Reid swallowed hard, and slowly stood up. He didn't adjust the camera to the new angle of where Amanda now stood. He watched her as she pretended to gaze out the window. She was really staring into her own blank eyes. His nervous fingers reached out and touched the inpatient's shoulder. She recoiled, breaking eye contact with the reflection that's face crumbled for just half a second—for a moment the reflection in the glass looked like a broken young man behind a painted face. But Amanda turned away quickly and glared at the young doctor.

"Amanda," he said the word slowly. "You never let him say goodbye. He never had the chance to tell Julie if he loved her, or if he was sorry, or anything. If he really doesn't want to stay, he at least deserves to say goodbye."

"Julie is dead. He has no one to say goodbye to, Dr. Reid."

"Then at least let me talk to him. Just once."

"I bring him back and then what? Will you drive me out? Kill me? How do I know you're not going to trick me?"

"Because I just want Adam to be happy. It's his decision if he wants to leave. I won't make that choice for him."

Amanda stared incredulously at the dishwater hair and the dark eyes and the tired face of Dr. Spencer Reid. "Not today, Dr. Reid," she drawled at last. "I don't care if hours aren't over. Our visit is done."

Reid nodded and moved to stop the camera. Amanda moved away from the window but remained standing in the oddly well-lit room. Reid turned to pick up his coat.

"Do you promise to let me talk to him when I come back?" he asked as he pulled the coat over his sweater.

Amanda's wide eyes flickered to the carpet and her standard-issued hospital slippers. "If I can find him."

The young doctor gulped and gave a thin smile that she didn't see. He bent his head down and pushed a strand of curly hair behind his ears. He touched her shoulder gently, and pulled something from his pocket with nervous fingers. "Okay," was all he said.

Amanda's eyes focused on the packet of cigarettes he offered her. She gave a ghostly smile and accepted the gift with the grace of a true southern belle.

"Perhaps I'll allow you to stay until I finish my cigarette," she drawled.

"Okay," replied the doctor, and watched the patient light her cigarette—the smoke rising up to kiss the florescent lights.


	4. Cloudburst

**Author's Note**: Here is the final chapter. I hope you enjoy it! I appreciate all your alerts, favs and reviews! I'd love your feedback now that the story is completed. I love to hear what you think. Thanks again for reading. - Jacqueline

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"He waited for the mask to drop off, but at the same time he did not question her right to wear it." _**- F. Scott Fitzgerald**_  
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The room had been compromised.

The windows let in natural light, but it was a dark day in Houston. The clouds tumbled and fought over the sky, threatening to spill the violence on the millions of people below. Amanda watched the battle from inside the counselor's room. She had agreed to the natural lighting, and even for the desk lamp to be on along with the lamp next to the couch. She was fine with the light as long as the overhead fluorescents would not flood the room with their harsh, naked glow. In agreeing to open the curtains, the counselor gave her only one cigarette, and the patient had yet to light it. The only other slight change in the make-up of the room was the conspicuous lack of a video camera pointed at the couch.

This had been the critical compromise—Amanda refused to allow Dr. Spencer Reid to speak with her unless it was removed. Specialists would not pick this conversation apart. It would remain between the doctor and the patient, and it would be the last time Amanda would speak to Dr. Reid. She had made this decision silently as she calculated and communicated deep inside of her being.

The doctor had not arrived yet. He was inexplicably late, and it was putting Amanda on edge. She paced before the window in her hospital clothes. She adjusted her long brown hair, regarded her slightly shorter polished nails, and fingered her powdered eyelids. When she could no longer busy herself with her appearance she stopped and faced the darkening windows and let out an angry sigh.

She stared out the window with pale green eyes, willing the storm to come.

* * *

"What are you waiting for?" the counselor questioned the young doctor who stood just outside of the office where he was to meet Amanda.

"I'm waiting to see if she'll light the cigarette," he replied easily. Reid was relaxed, his hands deep in his pockets as his eyes peered through the small pane of glass to watch Amanda stare out the window.

"She's been in there twenty minutes, and she hasn't yet," the counselor supplied. "I think she's waiting for you to smoke."

"No," Reid said slowly. "I think she's waiting to see if Adam wants to." He ran his thin fingers through his dishwater hair before pulling the door open and stepping inside.

* * *

Amanda's head whipped around as the door to the counselor's room opened. Reid let the door close quietly behind him before he said, "Nice to see you Amanda."

Amanda's vacant eyes narrowed. "I can tell you were in a hurry to see me," she snapped. "I'll have you know, Dr. Reid, it's rude to keep a lady waiting." She moved fluidly away from the window and folded herself down onto the couch. The cigarette lay in front of her on the coffee table. Her fingers twitched slightly as she eyed it, but she did not grab the roll.

"I'm sorry, my flight was delayed by the weather." The doctor spoke casually, and sat down in his usual armchair. He rested one of his feet on his knee, exposing his mismatched argyle socks. He leaned back, and gave a thin smile to Amanda. "Are you going to keep our promise?"

"I intend to," Amanda said coolly. But Reid saw her long nails digging into the flesh of her arm and her eyes continuously darting from the cigarette to the windowpanes that were now sprinkled with drops of rain. A distant rumble could be heard as the thunderheads pushed their way over the flatlands of Texas. "But I must hear something from you first, Dr. Reid."

Reid only nodded and waited for Amanda to continue. Her eyes focused on his mismatched socks as she spoke. "This Tobias you mentioned," she began. "Do you believe there was ever a chance for him to live in harmony with himself? Could he have found a balance for himself and the others who dwelt with him?"

Reid let out a long sigh. He pushed his hair from his face and leaned forward, placing both his legs firmly on the ground. He rested on his elbows and folded his hands as he stared intently at Amanda. She gazed right back at him, amazed at the warmth in his dark eyes.

"Tobias wasn't like you and Adam," he said. "The part that dominated him would never allow Tobias to exist happily. He was destined to destroy himself. Tobias would have died away even if I hadn't shot him. The other parts of him would have taken over."

"Is that what you think I'm doing to Adam? Killing him?"

"No. There's a difference between you and Tobias. You aren't trying to punish Adam; you're trying to protect him. You even said it yourself. You love Adam. Tobias's father hated him. There's a world of difference between love and hate."

There was a silence between the doctor and the patient, accented by the soft patterns of raindrops. The promise of the storm was announced with the rumble of thunder turning into a dull roar. Both pairs of eyes slowly turned to the window, watching as the trickle of rain turned into a steady downpour.

"He was glad that you wanted to talk to him."

Reid looked back at Amanda. She was still staring out the window as she spoke.

"When I found him, he said he remembered hearing your voice. It was the last time you visited me, when you called his name. He said he was glad to hear it used again." Amanda took in a deep breath, as if the words had run a mile before they had been released. She pushed on, running the words out before she was too exhausted to speak them.

"He told me he understands why I'm afraid to let him out. He said he loved me, that he needed to do this… but I don't know if I can."

The rain bled through the window and stained Amanda's painted face as her pale eyes betrayed her fears. She let the salty water drip silently down her cheeks. She had too much dignity to wipe them away.

"You can do it, Amanda," Reid said softly. "I know you can. You're strong enough. You won't disappear. Adam needs to get out, or he will. You know he's not as strong as you."

"I'm not as strong as you perceive, Dr. Reid."

"I've seen you take on all this responsibility, Amanda. You're able to hold your head high and protect the person you love without completely destroying him."

"But you know something must give. After all this time, something has to give."

"I guess so."

"It's just that I feel…"

"You feel?"

"I feel like today's my funeral, Dr. Reid. I'm watching as my casket is buried in a grave with no name. There's nobody there to see me off. Because you're right, Dr. Reid. I don't exist. And after today, I will cease even to pretend to."

The downpour reflects across Amanda's face. Reid closes his eyes and rubs his eyelids slowly. He opens them again to see that nothing has changed; Amanda is still staring at the sky with raindrops in her eyes.

"It doesn't have to be like this," he told her. "You love Adam, and Adam loves you. You can learn to exist together."

"No, Dr. Reid," Amanda whispered. "No… I'm afraid I can't do that. I've used up all that strength you say I have. I just needed to know that… if I hadn't hurt all those people, maybe I could have stayed with Adam. We could have been happy, like you said. I just needed to know that things could have been different."

The dull roar came again from the clouds, and a flash of lightening streaked across the blackened sky. Amanda's eyes caught sight of it, and widened in fear for half a second. They flickered away from the window, and to the young man sitting opposite of her. He had reached forward and picked up the lighter and the cigarette. He offered the cigarette to her. She shook her head slowly.

"Adam won't like it," was her reasoning.

Reid set them back down on the table. Amanda turned slightly, and took a deep breath. Her face was smeared beyond recognition. She was a Picasso of watery mascara, smudged lipstick and dripping eyeliner. She reached over with trembling hands and took a tissue from the box sitting on the table.

"I thank you, Dr. Reid," she said as she clutched the tissue. Reid saw that her nails, although polished, were not as long as they used to be. She had removed the fake nails. "Thank you for looking out for Adam. I know you will, even when I'm gone."

"Thank _you, _Amanda." The doctor moved to sit down beside the trembling patient. Reid put a hand on Amanda's shoulder as she shuddered with a sob she refused to release. "Thank you for doing what's right."

"It was a pleasure, Dr. Reid. Farewell."

"Goodbye Amanda."

Amanda leaned forward, burying her face into the tissue and let out the broken sob that had been building like the steady storm. Her body shook under the calm fingers of Dr. Reid. She wiped away at her face vigorously, almost violently. Her whole body trembled and shook, and she dropped the tissue and grabbed at her hair, ripping it from her head. Underneath were unruly dark curls that polished nails soon clung to. The wig fell to the floor along with the discarded face.

Reid sat back slowly, his arm falling away from the body that shook and cried and then suddenly went limp.

When the patient slowly sat up, Amanda's face was gone. Curious, confused and terrified green eyes stared at Spencer Reid from the face of a young man.

"Hi, Adam… You might not remember me… My name's Spencer."


End file.
